


Goodbye to Yesterday

by snarky_saxophonist



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: 2017 season, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of other Cubs, Tennessee Smokies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_saxophonist/pseuds/snarky_saxophonist
Summary: Willson books a plane ticket for Tennessee as soon as Kyle tells him when he's making his rehab start.





	Goodbye to Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to have this up ages ago, but it got shunted to the back of my mind and I forgot about it until last week, so I finished it up and here it is. We'll say it's in honor of the first week of Spring Training.
> 
> As always, if you or someone you know personally is tagged in this, please click the back button now.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Mentions of alcohol and a character being drunk. It's very brief, and not one of the main characters.  
> I don't think there's anything else I need to warn about, but if there is, please let me know and I'll do that right away!

Willson books a plane ticket for Tennessee as soon as Kyle tells him when he's making his rehab start. The break is too short for him to go home to Venezuela anyways, and he wants to get out of Chicago for a little while. He has plans to visit his brother later in the week, but he wants to see Kyle pitching again. He doesn't tell Kyle about his planned trip, because he knows Kyle will insist it's unnecessary. 

The best flight Willson could get had been into Nashville, so he takes the opportunity to buy himself a lurid yellow Predators jersey. He knows it's a long shot that he won't get recognized at a baseball game of his team's affiliate, but decking himself out in a different color for a completely different sport might be his best bet. 

The drive from Nashville to Kodak is a few hours, and he'd thought it might get lonely, but it's nice to have some time to himself for once. He manages to only stress about things for half the trip, worrying about all the things that could go wrong during Kyle's start tonight. There's always the chance that his finger could start acting up again, or he could get hurt from something else while pitching, and they can't have that happen. The team needs him back, and even more than that, Willson needs him back. Kyle's still around with the team and he and Willson still watch video and break down hitters and opposing pitchers together, and nothing's changed about their friendship, but it's not the same. Willson misses crouching behind the plate and waiting for Kyle's pitches, the two of them thinking with one mind to control their game. He has the other pitchers, of course, and his hands are full with being a starting catcher with a rookie backup while he's still in his first full season, but there's something special about seeing Kyle on the mound, features controlled and all emotion left as his catcher's responsibility while they baffle the hitters together. 

The stadium is crowded already when be gets there, everyone eager to watch the Cy Young finalist pitch. Willson had anticipated it, though, so he'd bought his ticket well in advance. He might have been able to get it for free, or maybe to even hang out in the press box instead, but he doesn't want anyone to know he's here. He settles into his seat, pulling out his phone to text Kyle. He'll let him know he's here afterwards, to ensure that he doesn't throw Kyle off his game. 

_Good luck tonight! Can't wait to have you back with me soon!_

He doesn't expect a response from Kyle until after he pitches, but he's content to be here. He's honest enough with himself to admit that he's bitter to not be catching Kyle, stupid as his feelings may be. They’re not going to send him back down to AA over the break just to catch Kyle, it makes no sense and probably is against all sorts of league rules. But still, it's been two months since he was last behind the plate for Kyle, not since the disastrous series against the Yankees. He doesn't even remember much of that game because Castro's hit had messed him up more than he'd been willing to admit, so it barely even counts. If this goes well tonight, he might get Kyle back in a week or two at most, and hopefully Joe will actually let him catch for Kyle again.

The fans start cheering when Kyle walks out to take the mound, but Kyle looks as emotionless as ever, not a hint of excitement about pitching in a game again showing on his face. Willson wishes he was down there, going over the game plan one more time and doing his best to relieve whatever nerves Kyle's feeling before his start. 

"Excuse me," A voice interrupts Willson's musings. "Sorry, my seat-" the guy gestures at the empty seat next to Willson. The catcher stands to allow him through, giving the man a friendly smile as he does so. "You're wearing the wrong sport, my friend," the guy says, gesturing at Willson's Predators shirt and hat.

Willson shrugs. "Still Tennessee, so it counts, right? I'm more a hockey guy generally, but I wanted to see Hendricks."

"Don't we all, man. He's a brilliant pitcher. Sucks that he got hurt, but I don't mind a chance to get to see him," the guy smiles. "I'm Matt, by the way."

"Javy," Willson says, panicking and electing to use his teammate's name in his attempt to keep his identity unknown. He really should have planned for this beforehand, as it’s probably not his smoothest move to pick the name of another Cub.

"Hey, like Javy Baez! Nice to meet you. You at the game alone?" Matt asks cheerfully, even as he focuses on Hendricks throwing his warmup pitches. 

"Yeah, I've got some time off work now, so I figured I'd catch the game, but all my coworkers are elsewhere," Willson says, simplifying his story so he doesn't actually have to lie. "You?"

"My brother was supposed to join me, but something came up, so it's just me tonight. You a Cubs fan too, or just go to local games?"

"No, I'm a big Cubs fan," Willson says. "Been to a bunch of their games, but the minor league games are fun too."

"And significantly less expensive," Matt agrees, quieting to watch Hendricks make his first pitch. Willson watches his pitcher intently, eyeing the catcher's setup. Kyle throws the ball for a strike, and Willson can't help but smile a bit. It's so good to see Kyle out there on a mound, in his element.

As the game goes on, however, Willson becomes less sure that Kyle's really in his element tonight. His velocity is a little lower than usual, which could be attributed to it being his first rehab start, but Wilson senses something else going on. Kyle's subtle cues, the minuscule ones that Willson has learned to read over a year catching, suggest something off about his pitching. Maybe it's just a little rustiness after a month off, but Willson doesn't think that's quite right. Either way, it's not a good sign. 

Matt and Willson continue to make small talk through the game, but they're both mostly quiet when Hendricks is on the mound. Matt had pitched in college, he tells Willson, so he's intently analyzing how Kyle's pitching is going. He doesn't seem to notice somehow that Willson is just as focused on every facet of the pitcher. 

"You play much?" Matt asks Willson during the bottom of the second.

"I played in the minors for a bit as an outfielder," Willson says. It's not a lie exactly, as he moved to catcher before making it to the higher levels. "That was awhile ago, though."

"You played as an outfielder in the minors but you're more of a hockey guy?" Matt laughs. "You're an interesting guy, Javy."

"It's just not as fun to watch baseball as to play it," Willson explains. It's true, after all. "It makes me miss playing when I'm just watching."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Matt nods. "Jeez, this offense is just not doing anything. Give a pitcher a little support, yeah?"

"Really," Willson agrees, looking down at his pitcher as he heads back out to the mound to start the third. "Hendricks can't do it all."

"Not with a DH, he can't," Matt agrees. "Give him a bat, maybe he'd be better than some of these guys. He's used to seeing major league pitching, might give him a slight advantage."

"He's gotten some clutch hits in the majors too," Willson says. "That single against the Giants in the NLDS that scored two was pretty great."

"Definitely," Matt smiles, but falls silent again to watch Hendricks pitch. 

If Willson wasn't sure after the first two innings, he's positive now that there's something going on with Kyle. His command looks pretty good, but he's definitely not 100%. If they're lucky, it's just an off night for him, and not the finger still being a problem. Willson grimaces when Kyle gives up another double, but he manages to recover and get out of the inning. 

"I wonder if he gets another inning," Matt comments. "He's been pretty good so far, but I can't imagine they want him to go too deep in his first rehab start."

"Probably not," Willson says, though the words still make his heart sink. He knows that Kyle will most likely have a second rehab start, but he wants his pitcher back already. 

"It's too bad, he could be a big boost to the Cubs' rotation when he gets back," Matt says. "The starters have really struggled this season." 

"The whole team has," Willson says, a little more sharply than he intends. Yeah, his pitchers haven't been the best, but it's not like the offense has backed them up much. And, the nasty little voice inside his head adds, how much of their struggles can be blamed on a young catcher screwing things over for them?

"Well, yeah," Matt concedes. "They'll all get better, though. Bryant, Rizzo, Baez, Contreras, Schwarber - they can't all struggle all season. They'll all heat up at some point, and God help the opposition when they do."

"Let's hope so," Willson agrees, trying to look casual at his companion dissecting the performances of his teammates and brothers. "I think they'll pull it together, and the rotation can still stabilize and be good."

"Hard to be worse than Lester's last start, that's for sure," Matt says. "Lester's not the type of guy you worry about, though. I'm sure he'll bounce back and have a good next outing."

"Lester never lets a bad spot bother him," Willson says. He'd know, after all. Some of his pitchers he has to talk down a little after giving up runs, but not Lester. Jonny is good about moving on, getting the next out and keeping them in the game. 

"Hendricks, though, he's hard to get a read on," Matt says. "I can never tell if anything bothers him."

"He's good at staying calm and putting things behind him," Willson says, then catches himself. "I mean, it looks like he is, at least."

"I think I've seen him smile like twice," Matt laughs. "Never seen a pitcher who looks so unflappable. I wish I’d had his kind of control back in my pitching days, but I was more an angry Lackey-type pitcher.”

"Sometimes emotion is a good thing for a pitcher,” Willson says cautiously, feeling like he has to defend his more emotional pitchers. 

“Oh no, I’m not insulting pitchers who are more emotional, I just admire Hendricks’ style,” Matt says. “As long as they get the results, I’m not going to complain, but hopefully they get better results in the second half of the season.”

“I’m sure the rest will help them and they can get off to a good start after the break,” Willson says, hoping that it actually will play out that way. They have all the pieces, they know they do, but they just haven’t been able to play up to their potential. It’s not a good feeling to go into the break two games under .500 and 5.5 back in the division, but there’s still enough time to turn it around. 

“It’s been weird how they just haven’t seemed to click. They’re all good players, but it seems like they can’t all get it to come together all at once,” Matt says, and Willson starts gearing himself up for a very awkward conversation about why he and his team can’t play good baseball anymore. Thankfully, the inning break ends, so he’s saved from having to deal with that by Hendricks taking the mound once more.

The strikeout is good to see, but Willson doesn’t anticipate them leaving Kyle in much longer, given that it’s his first time pitching in a game in a month. He hasn’t looked good enough out there to warrant them immediately putting him back in the big league rotation. Hopefully the other guys can bounce back after the break and be solid enough without Kyle for one or two more starts.

Sure enough, Kyle walks the next batter, and the manager immediately heads out to the mound to take him out of the game. Willson knows that Kyle was hoping to go four innings on his pitch count tonight, but he gives no indication of frustration as he walks off the field to enthusiastic applause.

“How do you think he looked?” Matt asks Willson as the new pitcher, Pugliese, starts warming up. 

“I think they’ll have him make another rehab start, let him work his pitch count back up and get a little bit more of a feel for things before sticking him back in the rotation,” Willson says. He doesn’t feel comfortable dissecting Kyle’s pitching with a stranger, because he knows too much about Kyle and doesn’t want to reveal what was potentially wrong tonight. Not that he knows for sure, but it feels like an invasion of Kyle’s privacy to even speculate to someone else.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s a shame though, getting him back could help spark the rotation,” Matt points out. 

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Willson says, sighing when Pugliese gives up a homer. He takes the opportunity to pull out his phone to text Kyle as the players trot around the bases.

_Looked good out there for your first rehab start. How’d you feel?_

“Big smile there,” Matt comments, startling Willson out of his thoughts. “Who you texting, your girl?”

Willson laughs awkwardly, pointedly shoving away the feelings Matt’s words evoke. “Nah, just a buddy of mine.

Kyle will probably have to shower and cool down and meet with the trainers before he gets a chance to look at his phone, so Willson shoves his back in his pocket to pay attention to the game.

 

Now that Kyle is out of the game and Willson isn't as invested in it anymore, it's nice to just watch the game as a fan. He doesn't get the opportunity to just appreciate baseball much these days, and it's a nice night for a ballgame, with good company.

He gets a text back from Kyle in the eighth, as the Smokies are trotting off the field.

_Felt nice to be back out there. I should've known you'd be watching. You stream it online or something?_

In response, Willson lifts his phone to snap a picture of the field in front of him.

 _You came to the game??_ Kyle texts back almost immediately. _You need to come down to the clubhouse after the game. You're not allowed to come to Tennessee to watch me pitch and not say hi._

_Wouldn't dream of it. I'll see you in a little bit._

Willson smiles his way through the rest of the game, excited to see Kyle shortly. He's missed his calm demeanor and dry humor, even though it hasn't been long since they've seen each other.

 

"Hey, it was nice to take in the game with you," Matt says to him as the players make their way off the field after the ninth.

"Likewise," Willson clasps Matt's hand. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"I think it's more likely that I'll see you, Contreras," Matt grins. "It's not every day that you get to watch a game with a major league catcher."

"When did you figure it out?" Willson asks ruefully. 

"You looked familiar from the start, and when I saw your phone get a text from Kyle, I put two and two together."

"Sorry, I didn't-" Willson starts, but Matt holds up a hand.

"I get it, man. No worries. Just win some ballgames for the Cubs, huh?" He asks light-heartedly.

"That's the goal," Willson agrees. "Thanks for being cool about this. Do you want me to sign something, or-"

"If you would, that'd be really awesome," Matt smiles, digging in his bag for a baseball. "My brother's kid is a huge fan of yours, wants to be a catcher one day. He'll be jealous I got to meet you."

"I can sign something for him too, if you want," Willson offers.

"Really? That'd be great! His name's Mike, if you want to sign that ball to him." 

To Mike, hope to see you catching in the majors one day! Contreras 40, Willson scrawls on it. He passes it back, then signs the cap Matt holds out to him.

"It was nice to meet you," Willson says as Matt puts his newly autographed gear back in his bag.

"Same to you," Matt grins and nods at him, then they make their way out of the stands.

 

Kyle raises an eyebrow when Willson meets him in the hallway outside the locker room, shaking his head in amusement. 

"Nice shirt," he comments. "You could've picked worse players than PK Subban."

"I was just trying to not look like myself," Willson shrugs, pulling his pitcher into a hug. "It was good to see you back on the mound again."

"Felt good to be back on the mound again," Kyle replies, smiling slightly. "Why'd you come all the way out here?"

“Missed watching you pitch, figured you might want a cheering squad, and it’s not like I have a game now,” Willson shrugs.

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Kyle says. “But I appreciate it. It’s nice to see you.”

“How’d you feel out there? You looked a little…” Willson trails off, not wanting to insult Kyle, but the pitcher’s tight expression tells him that he’s not happy with his own performance.

“I’ve felt better,” he admits. “I should’ve been better.”

“You were holding back out there,” Willson says, realizing it as the words come out of his mouth. If he’d been behind the plate, he would’ve realized within the first few pitches, but he couldn’t read Kyle as well from the stands. He had noticed Kyle shaking his head a lot at the catcher’s signs, had chalked it up to a kid catcher unfamiliar with a major league pitcher, especially a guy like Kyle. “Is your finger still bothering you?” Because if Kyle’s still not at 100%, not ready to come back…

But Kyle’s shaking his head, dismissing that worry before it’s even fully formed. “No, no, my hand feels good. I told you, my bullpen felt great the other day. I’m healthy.”

“So then why were you holding back?” Willson demands. “Don’t tell me you weren’t, I know-I know you were,” Willson finishes lamely. I know you, he wants to say, but that feels somehow too intimate to say in this brightly-lit hallway. Which is stupid. A catcher has to know his pitchers. And besides, he and Kyle are more than just a battery. They’re friends. And… Well. Willson can’t think like that, certainly can’t do anything about it even if he did let himself think about it. It’s not fair to Kyle, to their team, or to himself.

“I don’t know,” Kyle shrugs awkwardly. “Maybe just a little off ‘cause it’s been so long since I’ve pitched in a game.”

“It’s not that,” Willson insists, taking in Kyle’s hesitance. Kyle’s never like this, certainly not with him.

“Fine,” Kyle sighs. “I think I was holding back because I am off after it’s been so long, but not necessarily just because of the game rhythms or anything. I think I was just…scared to put everything into it in case it didn’t go well.” Kyle lifts his gaze to meet Willson’s, and Willson is startled by the frank honestly in his eyes.

“You’re Kyle Hendricks,” Willson says, putting a hand on Kyle’s arm, stepping forward like they’re having a meeting on the mound. “You’re more than good enough to blow these guys away when you’re not at your best, why should you be afraid? You’re a fucking great pitcher, the only thing holding you back right now is you.”

Kyle laughs, startling Willson out of his seriousness. “I know. Maybe I just need my catcher out there to remind me every once in awhile, huh?”

“You don’t need me,” Willson insists. 

“Maybe not, but I always like having you out there with me,” Kyle smiles at him, and Willson is suddenly supremely aware of how close they’re standing, and his arm is still on Kyle’s arm. He leans forward slightly, ignoring the niggling voice in the back of his head that says this is a terrible idea.

Kyle’s phone rings, startlingly loud in the empty hallway. Willson jumps back, lunging away from Kyle like he’s been burned.

“Sorry, it’s Lester,” Kyle says, looking sheepishly at his phone. “I should-“

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Willson agrees, giving Kyle a weak smile. “It was good to see you, I’ll just head out-“

“Wait, no,” Kyle’s hand shoots out, grabbing Willson’s arm before he can leave. “Stay for a minute? I’m sure this won’t take too long.”

“Okay,” Willson agrees easily, pulling out his own phone to distract himself as Kyle answers his.

“Hey, Jon, what’s up?” Kyle asks. He smiles slightly as he listens to whatever Lester is saying. “Thanks, I appreciate that, but Willy’s here to be my cheering squad.”

Willson grins to himself, unable to hide his happiness at seeing that Kyle is glad he’s here.

“Are you drunk?” Kyle asks suddenly. Willson glances over at him, inadvertently meeting Kyle’s eyes. “Jon, what-“

‘You okay?’ Willson mouths to Kyle, who nods tersely, then shakes his head.

“Hang on a second, Jon,” Kyle says, muting his phone. “I’m really sorry, Willson, but would you mind talking to another of your crazy pitchers? Jon is drunk with Rizzo and is dwelling on his last start.”

Willson holds out his hand for the phone, smiling slightly at Kyle’s look of relief. “Hi, Lester.”

 _“Willy?”_ Jon slurs across the line. _“You hanging out with our best pitcher?”_

“No, I’m hanging out with one of my pitchers,” Willson corrects. “Kyle said you’re whining about your last start.”

Jon laughs drunkenly. _“I was funk-fun-fuckin’ awful! Can’t throw to first, can’t throw to the plate. Should jus’ head down to Single A. I’m jus’ a shit pitcher.”_

“Yeah, you’re a shit pitcher if you decide that you’re a shit pitcher,” Willson snaps. “If you want to be shit, then you will. If you want to win games for us, you will. What you did at your last start wasn’t pitching. Stop being fucking stupid, get your head out of your ass, remember that you’re a pitcher, and then go out there and fucking pitch next time.”

There’s a long silence from the other end of the phone, then Jon grumbles, _“Rossy was never this mean to me.”_

“Rossy gave you a kick in the ass when you needed it, just like I’m doing now,” Willson says. “Stop being miserable and sober up, then enjoy the break with your family.”

 _“You’re mean,”_ Jon complains.

“You’re welcome,” Willson replies, smiling as he hangs up and hands Kyle his phone back.

“That seemed harsh,” Kyle comments, eyebrows raised as he pockets his phone.

Willson shrugs. “Lester and Lackey both need to get yelled at sometimes. All of my pitchers need something different from their catcher.”

“Yeah?” Kyle asks. “And what do I usually need from my catcher?”

“Somebody to catch the baseballs you throw,” Willson says. Kyle laughs, punching Willson lightly in the shoulder.

“C’mon, I was being serious,” he protests, shaking his head.

“So was I!” Willson replies. “You never seem to need anything from me. Maybe occasionally a mound visit to give you a breather or let you have a second to collect yourself, but you do just fine on your own.”

“I do just fine because I know my catcher has everything else covered,” Kyle says. “I need you out there behind the plate for me, and then I can handle my end because you handle more than your part.”

“I’m not great at pitch framing,” Willson says, uncomfortable with Kyle’s honesty. 

Kyle raises an eyebrow. “Who cares that you’re not as good yet as older, more experienced catchers? It’s my job to make the pitches and the ump’s job to call the pitches as they are, regardless of framing. That’s not what I really need from my catcher.”

“Kyle-“ Willson starts helplessly, with no idea of where his sentence is going to go. Thankfully, he’s saved by one of the Smokies players, most likely a pitcher from the looks of him, poking his head into the hallway.

“Oh, hey, there you are,” he says to Kyle. “I’ve been looking for you. Some of us were going out shortly and we were wondering if you wanted-“ He stops midsentence, suddenly seeming to notice that he’s not alone in the hallway with Kyle. “Willson Contreras? What- Why are- What?”

“Hi,” Willson says to the kid, raising an eyebrow. “Was there an actual question for me in there somewhere?”

“I, um,” The kid stops again, taking a moment to collect himself. “Do you want to come out with us tonight? Um, both of you?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m pretty tired after my start today,” Kyle says regretfully. “Some other night.”

“I think I’m going to hang with Kyle tonight, but thanks,” Willson declines as well.

"Oh, okay," The kid looks disappointed, but smiles at them anyways. "Um, you pitched a really good game out there tonight. I'm glad that you're- well, no, I'm not glad you're here, it sucks you're injured, but it's really cool to watch you pitch."

"Thanks, Trevor," Kyle gives the other pitcher a small smile. "If you want, I'd love to talk pitching with you later."

"Oh!" The kid - Trevor, apparently - stares at Kyle in surprise. "You aren't going back up to the majors now?"

"Nah, one more start here, then I should be heading to Chicago," Kyle says.

"Oh," Trevor smiles awkwardly, glancing between the two of them. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah. Have a nice night, Trevor," Kyle says to him, a clear dismissal despite his light tone.

"Same to you guys," Trevor says, making a hasty retreat.

After the hallway is clear once more, Kyle turns to Willson, a rueful expression on his face. "Wow, we can't go five minutes without getting interrupted tonight, can we?"

"Apparently not," Willson says, trying not to let his frustration show on his face. It's not Jon or Trevor's fault that he can't get the alone time with Kyle that he wants, and maybe it's a better thing for him that there are constant interruptions. Kyle, however, seems to think differently, gesturing for Willson to follow him down the hallway.

"I seem to have a reputation as more of a head case than I actually am," Kyle says, shooting Willson a smile over his shoulder as he opens the door to a conference room. Willson trails after him on autopilot, a little weirded out by how open Kyle is being for once. Even though he's not as serious off the field as he seems on it, he never smiles this much. "They offered me this room to hang out in alone before my start today, it was really strange. Like, yeah, everyone leaves the starting pitcher alone before a start if they want to be left alone, but offering me an entire room in which to be alone? I've never had that before."

"That is odd," Willson comments, stopping next to Kyle, just inside the door. "Why did you bring me in here, though?"

"Because that hallway was too public, and there's something I need to say to you, and it occurred to me that now might be a good time for it, when we have a break before we go back to being teammates again," Kyle says.

"We are teammates," Willson insists, stepping closer and taking Kyle's pitching hand in both of his. "Just because of this, just because you're not playing with us right now, doesn't mean you're not still part of the team."

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Kyle assures him, smiling gently. "I meant-" He sighs, using his free hand to take one of Willson's from his pitching hand so both of their hands are clasped together, then leans in slowly and kisses him.

Willson freezes, too surprised at first to kiss back. Kyle starts to pull back just as it actually registers in Willson's brain that Kyle Hendricks is kissing him, and this is not a dream, but he's starting to move away and that's not okay. Willson squeezes Kyle's left hand, hard, and kisses Kyle back.

"I like what you meant," Willson mumbles when they stop kissing to catch their breath.

"Yeah?" Kyle's dark eyes search his face, still mostly inscrutable, but Willson thinks he can see a hint of relief in them.

"You like me, and I like you," Willson summarizes. "That's what you meant, yeah?"

Kyle laughs quietly, eyes brightening. "Yeah. That's pretty much what I wanted to say."

"Me too," Willson admits, leaning in again to kiss his pitcher once more.

 

 

_One Week Later - Kodak, Tennessee_

Kyle won't deny that it's a little bit disappointing to be pulled after five innings of a perfect game, but he reminds himself that getting back to the Cubs is more important than how well he does in a minor league game. He'll just have to throw a perfect game in the majors at some point, is all.

"Go get cleaned up, then come meet me and I'll take a look at your finger," the trainer instructs him as Kyle makes his way to his locker. Kyle nods. He knows that the trainer won't find anything wrong. Everything was clicking tonight, everything felt as good as his best games last season.

He ignores his phone for the time being, electing to keep his head in its current state of quiet peacefulness instead of dealing with the onslaught of messages that is sure to be on there. His temporary teammates had been full of congratulations for him after his last inning, but he hadn't really heard them, still stuck in his pitching mindset. And damn, it had felt good to really be back in that headspace. It had been way too long.

 

By the time he's finished showering, the quiet has settled back into his bones, leaving his mind more back to usual, but still with that clarity he always craves. He grabs his phone on his way to the trainer's room, glancing through the messages from his friends and family as the trainer examines his pitching hand.

"Hendricks, how did you feel out there tonight?" The trainer asks. Kyle looks up from his phone, the last message still fresh in his mind.

_Un novio perfecto, un juego perfecto <3 _

His Spanish might not be great, but he knows more than enough to translate Willson's message.

"I'm ready to be back," he replies.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who don't speak Spanish, Willson's text said "A perfect boyfriend, a perfect game."
> 
> Here's to a new season and hopefully fewer injuries for my favorite battery!


End file.
